


there is not enough hate in my heart

by toba



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Senju Tobirama Needs a Hug, This is going to be sad, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:28:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28890648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toba/pseuds/toba
Summary: Tobirama feels his chakra curl in irritation, the warmth of his fire recoiling from him, like Tobirama's very presence is repulsive, abhorrent. This is an exercise in repetition, he knows Madara detests him, like most people, but absolutely nothing about it ever gets easier, it only ever gets worse. Something painful drops through his chest, and the feeling is overwhelming, excruciating.Someday, he thinks. His heart will finally have enough and it will quit, stop beating and grow cold, crushed under the pain. And so he would die, not under the blade of an enemy but the weight of his own loneliness, rejected and excluded."I am only trying to be polite, I do not mean to pick a fight. In this time of peace, I do not see any reason for strife." Tobirama replies, tired and curt."My version of peace," Madara looks at him indifferently, "has no place for someone like you."Tobirama watches wordlessly as Madara walks away, even as something inside himbreaks.
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 43
Kudos: 353





	1. all that i have lost to protect

Tobirama was born with chakra simmering at his fingertips, the world open and receptive and immense. Born with eyes as red as blood, hair as white as snow, power coiled in a body far too tiny for the intensity it afforded.

What an immense fate, what a terrible child.

Tobirama was born a sentinel. One of tremendous power, extreme intellect.

His mother's midwife had glanced at him with wide amazed eyes, cradling his head in her old wizened hands.

"Oh you are blessed, but what a terrible bargain, what a terrible bargain. May you find your guide little one, or so god may help you."

Even as a babe unable to walk or stand, Tobirama remembers being aware, present and quiet in a way no normal child ever was. He remembers the times he followed-felt Hashirama across the paddy fields, tracing his familiar chakra, sunflower bright-summer breeze, so very warm and kind. Remembers the way he had taken to chakra as easily as one might take air to inhale. Remembers throwing a kunai with absolute accuracy even before he'd learned to speak properly.

Remembers the way the clansmen whispered behind his mother's back.

A deal with the devil, they whispered. A cursed child, they discussed. The Lady Senju and her abomination of a second son. Eyes as red as those detestable sharingan the Uchiha sported, the child that never cried, the child who was barely human, a wraith given human flesh.

Tobirama does not speak much. At least, not in the way his brother does. Larger than life and enthusiastic, warm and fantastic. Talking to Hashirama is easy, it's fun. His brother brings joy to people, smiles and laughter and soft eyes. Tobirama pales in comparison. He is the moon to his brother's sun, remote and cold and insufficient to measure up to his warmth in any way.

His existence has always been contrary. 

On one hand, Tobirama is the model of a perfect shinobi, powerful and calm, silent and decisive. He has never been visibly sentimental, does not hesitate where his brother might. He is on token, dependable where Hashirama would falter. On the other hand, he is the pariah. He is the shadow the clan likes to forget, as they bask in Hashirama's presence, his sincere charisma.

Tobirama does not mind, he doesn't care about any of it. 

He loves his brother, the brother who'd never cared about how different or abnormal he was. The brother who'd thunder down the hallways of the clan house, Tobirama on his shoulders, the one who'd talked and talked and filled the room with joy and laughter even as Tobirama sat quiet, as their mother withered away under the strain of another pregnancy.

Their beautiful mother, confined to a life in a clan not her own, with a man as cold as ice. No freedom, plagued with constant sickness. She never had the strength to say much, but whatever she could manage, she taught them. Taught them love, of kindness, humility and grace. 

She kept smiling at him, always. Said she found him beautiful and sincere and that gossip meant nothing.

"How could you be cursed, you with your huge heart, all that love inside." She used to grin.

Tobirama always feels like he's let her down. Love is not something people think him capable of, and he's never been able to prove them wrong. He isn't like Hashirama, ready to throw his life away at the first mention of peace, he doesn't carry the same brand of optimism and hope. He's a perfect shinobi first and foremost, emotions don't play a role in most of the decisions he takes.

His father makes sure of that. 

Butsuma Senju is not a warm man. One did not lead a clan under wartime with kindness as a virtue.  
Tobirama had known right from the start, that there was no room for love in that man's heart. 

And so it was all the more amazing, how Hashirama was so kind, so optimistic even as their father showered them both with disapproval.  
Hashirama for being so stubbornly good, Tobirama for being a blemish on the clan head's pristine family with his abnormalities.

However they were still children, the worst had hardly even begun.

First, their mother died, leaving behind two new brothers, small and precious.

The little protection offered to both Hashirama and Tobirama under her name all but disappeared. There would be no more laughter, no more games. Their brothers were to be raised by the midwives, strangers, while they trained, while they entered the battle.

Tobirama refused to accept it. They would not take his brothers from him. Boys who would never get to know their mother, never know of her kind smile, the way she taught them what was truly right and what was wrong, the way she had taught them what love was. When Butsuma had struck him across the face, hard enough to draw blood, Hashirama had gone half mad with anger.  
Half the house was destroyed in seconds, the mokuton manifestation had shaken the clan.

They were allowed to have their way, in exchange for Hashirama's freedom, his use as an asset on the field.

Hashirama spent his days training and arguing, clashing with their father. Tobirama couldn't stand it. Couldn't bear to watch his brother limp back at night, voice hoarse from arguing but still smiling at their younger brothers, cradled in Tobirama's arms.

It was thus that he decided, no one, absolutely no one, would ever harm Hashirama again, not as long as he was alive.  
No one, would take Itama and Kawarama from him.

His life, he would use to protect them.

And so, he joins his brother on the frontlines, even as Hashirama scowls with disapproval.

Tobirama knows, that for them, him and their little brothers, Hashirama would take everything on his shoulders.  
It would break him. Crush his soul, his ability to dream. Butsuma would make sure of it.

He will not let that happen.

So, Tobirama deflects, spends his days sharpening his immense abilities, listens to Butsuma without argument. For every dispute with Hashirama, he plays mediator, meddles, diverts the issue.

Butsuma knows more often than not, what Tobirama keeps trying to do.  
It earns him more than a few whip lashings, broken bones, punishments.

But, it works.

Butsuma may not like it, but Tobirama manages to interfere in ways that profit the Senju more, as a whole.

Tobirama is nothing if not useful. His abilities are just as phenomenal as Hashirama's, if not as flashy. His sensory capabilities are several times more potent than the best of their existing sensors. His grasp on chakra is so advanced that more often than not, he manages all the delicate requirements of advanced jutsu thrown at him several times faster than Hashirama.

Hashirama is undoubtedly a monster in terms of raw chakra and specialist fighting techniques, but he isn't good for the rest. That is where Tobirama thrives. Everything from assassinations, high level jutsu development, espionage, war time strategy.

Forcing Hashirama into these things, the backhanded life of a shinobi that he hates, it would be a surefire way to break his spirit. But, no matter how much Butsuma tries to, he can't. Not with the protection Tobirama maintains for him at all times. Hashirama is always more useful on the battlefield, as a figurehead, than anywhere else, and all the rest are matters Tobirama monitors with a vice grip.

Over time, Tobirama becomes the perfect tool for their father.  
He hates it, but his prowess and versatility provide him with powerful standing in the clan.  
The cost is high. His hands are stained with blood, blood that will never wash off, but it's worth it. 

With him in the way, no one can touch his brothers. With the White Demon in the way, no one would dare.

This is not an honorable way to live. Tobirama spends more nights awake, scrubbing at his hands, picking at his scars, than he does asleep.  
Sleep does not come easy, but he learns to live with that. In the end, as long as he can keep his loved ones safe, his clan content, it's enough.

It has to be. 

(If no one knows about how his growing powers cause backlashes, headaches, it's for the best. His status as a sentinel cannot interfere with his responsibilities.)

Tobirama knows his intellect is uncommon, he is a genius by most standards, his plans mostly never fail, but he isn't infallible and today (perhaps years in the making), he's walked himself into a major mistake. He realizes it in the way Hashirama explodes at him during dinner.

"Tobirama. Tell me you didn't." Hashirama begins, mouth slanted with something like grief.

"Did what?" Tobirama asks, tired, voice hoarse. He's just returned from a mission that's going to keep him awake for the better part of the coming week.

"You killed the entire Kumori clan didn't you." Hashirama continues, voice furious.

No, not exactly, but what he did wasn't much better, so he doesn't feel like he should justify it or explain it. Tobirama doesn't bother replying.  
Hashirama should know better than to ask, by now.

"Tobi! I cannot believe this! How could you just slaughter them!" Hashirama explodes, slamming his hands on the table, standing up.

The matter regarding the Kumori clan had been running for weeks.  
The trade agreement they'd had with their clan specified a certain delivery of weapons which they'd failed to accommodate.

Further still, they'd sent a letter of dismissal for their continued inquiries, citing their intentions to ally with the Uchiha.

Tobirama doesn't know how the Uchiha managed to wrangle support from one of their allied clans, but it had happened,  
and it had left Butsuma incensed.

Hashirama had been arguing for the matter to be brushed off, it wasn't as if the Senju were lacking in weapons, the Kumori were only a measly part of their connected network.  
But, it was never about the weapons. Once the Uchiha were mentioned, it was a lost cause, a matter of pride.

Tobirama had tried to tamper the matter down, but this time, he couldn't. Not when so many Senju were touchy about the conflict with the Uchiha. And at the end of the day, the Clan Head wasn't Hashirama, who was still a child, it was Butsuma.

Of course, Butsuma had wanted him to slaughter them all, but he obviously would not.  
He'd forced them to scatter instead, threatened them to abandon their lands and flee in groups. Never to combine under the clan name again.

He didn't kill them, but at the same time, he might as well have, considering he destroyed their entire lifestyle.  
His mouth was still bitter, and he wasn't going to forget the hatred nor grief in their eyes anytime soon.

He'd felt their distress, the fear and agony rippling through their soul. Each one of them hostile,  
their chakra going icy cold-withering anger.

The more Tobirama grows, the more he can sense of people, their emotions, their souls, lit up in hues of jasmine white-foxglove pink or any of the myriad of ways one can color a soul,  
sunk in the textures of crashing waves, of vengeful thorns. Sometimes he can't help but get blindsided, get crushed under the hatred of their mournful life forces.  
A lot many people detest Tobirama after all. And for good reason.

"Well the Kumori clan doesn't exist as a competing clan any more but they aren't dead." Tobirama replies, flatly.

Hashirama stares at him stunned. He just doesn't comprehend why.  
A lot many people detest Tobirama, but Hashirama doesn't. So why does he look at him like that?

His brother understands. Surely he must?  
The sinking feeling in the pit of stomach is the premonition to something terrible, he can almost taste disaster.

"It wasn't as if I had a choice anija." Tobirama continues, exhaling shakily.

"Didn't have a choi-Tobi! Are you listening to yourself right now? That's how father justifies things! For the good of the clan we have no other choice! Have you already forgotten our mother? The things she taught us?! You're turning out to become the exact shinobi our father is!" Hashirama roars.

Tobirama flinches, hard.

The ball drops.

Never had Hashirama's chakra been this agitated in his presence, been so-  
so angry.

As a sensor, a sentinel on top, the change in his nature strikes Tobirama like a physical blow.

"You don't even look upset! You did something to ruin their lives and you walked away! How can you-

Hashirama doesn't even bother completing his sentence, he stalks away, incensed and overcome. Unable to finish his words.

Tobirama doesn't remember Hashirama ever being this mad at him, this upset with him, chakra flickering in disgust. For a while, he sits frozen, unable to deal with the sudden pain blooming across his chest. He doesn't think a physical knife to his chest could've hurt as much as how Hashirama's words did.

Forgetting their mother? Becoming a second coming of their father?

Is that what Hashirama thinks of him? But why?  
Surely he has to know what Tobirama is doing, and why. All the things that are at stake.

None of the children or non-combatants were targeted. Even the active shinobi, they were spared as long as the clan members promised to scatter, abandon their lands.

As long as the Kumori remained active as a unified clan, Butsuma would target them,  
so yes, Tobirama had forced them to scatter, with the threat of their lives hanging in balance.

Was-was he wrong though? What other solution was there? 

What else could he have done?

He's already taking a huge risk sparing their lives, if the news reaches Butsuma-  
Tobirama isn't really worried about himself, he can take torture, punishments, whatever may be thrown at him. But if he goes for Itama, or Kawarama. Even Hashirama.

He would never forgive himself.

But, Tobirama starts to realize how he's driven himself into a corner.  
He's been so busy trying to protect them, perhaps he's become a person they can't understand at all.  
It makes him so terrified, and the fear runs rancid through his veins.

He can't lose them, he can't lose Hashirama.

Hashirama's chakra smolders in the distance, for once, its not sunshine warm-calm and steady, it's angry and disappointed, it recoils from Tobirama's presence,  
and that hurts, the pain tears through his core, sudden and unexpected. 

He's a shinobi, a perfect soldier, because he has to be.

He doesn't want any of this-doesn't want this-doesn't want this.

How can he not see? How can _Hashirama_ not understand?

Tobirama barely makes it to the solitude of his room before he collapses, muffled sobs tearing out of his rotten throat.  
No, no, this is not what he wants.

This is not what he wants.


	2. first fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> only but the first in the long line of terrible events

Hashirama keeps giggling as Tobirama swats at the flowers that keep sticking to him.

"This is ridiculous." Tobirama gripes, exasperated.

Itama and Kawarama burst out laughing as Hashirama spawns even more flowers and positively showers him with them. 

His brothers cover the surrounding area with mirth. Their presence shimmers in the summer heat, light and _joyful_. A warmth spreads through his chest, a wonderful bloom of heat, their amusement is contagious, but he'd really rather die than admit to Hashirama that his flowery nonsense is acceptable.

Because is absolutely isn't.

"How are they so sticky, what in god's name have you done to them." Tobirama just about shrieks. Trying to pry off multiple blooms that are persistently clinging to his fingers the more he tries to get them off. At this point he's just about given up trying to actually fight or use any jutsu, trying not to become a walking flower plant, but something tells him his efforts are probably in vain.

"You look funny Tobi." Kawarama huffs, chubby fingers reaching for the flowers along Tobirama's hand.

Tobirama bursts into a smile, swiping a bunch of flowers and sticking them to his brother's face.

The toddler grabs at them in helpless realization, stumbling back into Itama. "Oh no." Itama tries, hoping to avoid Hashirama's flowers. But, their elder brother is a downright menace and trees burst to life all around them, the branches spreading out and ending in buds that bring forth another onslaught of flora. Thankfully, this batch doesn't stick to them.

Tobirama doesn't think anyone could die drowned under a gigaton of flowers, but sometimes Hashirama makes it seem feasible. The area is littered with multitudes of strange large blooms, all colours, all sizes. Their younger brothers jump through the large pile, shrieking with joy.

"Look, aren't they beautiful?" Hashirama turns to Tobirama, he has a grin so brilliant he feels like he might go blind.  
His chakra is sunshine warm-effervescent. Itama and Kawarama are matching sets of daisies-carnations-primroses.

Tobirama sucks in a startled breath, feeling as if someone just punched him hard enough to steal the air from his lungs.  
Oh, oh.

Oh he would die for them, for them he would die a thousand different deaths, he would watch out for them through eternal golden days, through overcast dark skies, through anything and everything and he would. He would.

His own chakra bursts out, enveloping the life around them, powerful and protective.

"You okay? Tobi?" Hashirama inquires, swatting Tobirama with ferns.  
He grabs the stems and sighs, "Would you stop hitting me with that."

"When I'm older," Kawarama begins, "would I be able to make flowers bloom too?" He's holding a sunflower, smile set on his face.

Hashirama sits down beside him with a thump.

"I don't know, to be honest. What do you think, Tobi?" He asks him instead.

Tobirama carefully clears a patch of ground, joining them while leaning back and resting against a tree. It's not completely out of the realm of possibility. Clearly their family has the reticent gene for the mokuton manifestation. Both Kawarama and Itama are strong healthy children, their chakra holding very many similarities to Hashirama's. Especially Kawarama, while his nature is distinct in it's own way, Tobirama can sense the special bit of-sunlight rich earth-boundless vitality that's very particular to their elder brother.

"Statistically speaking, it's possible that you might one day be able to wield it, but there's a whole lot of uncertainty. I wouldn't suggest you bank all your hopes on it rabbit." Tobirama muses.

"Bummer. Isn't there any way to know for sure?" Itama wonders idly, sprawled across the grass in a patch of sun.

"If there is a method to divine that for sure, we don't know about it. Not anymore. It's been a really long time since anyone manifested it in our clan. The mokuton manifestation had actually become something of old legend, we learned about it when we were kids through stories about our ancestors. We have no records of any practical use though." Tobirama replies.

"I mean, it doesn't really matter that much." Hashirama consoles, grinning.

"Easy for you to say when you have it." Itama snorts.

"I mean, flowers would've been nice. And the mokuton really is cool and flashy. But, I won't mind not having it either. After all, Tobirama doesn't have it, but he's just as amazing." Kawarama continues, grinning at Tobirama.

Tobirama grabs Kawarama and pulls him close, ruffling his hair. "I am amazing." He agrees easily.

"Sure little brother, but I'm still the coolest." Hashirama huffs, scrunching his nose in a challenging grin.

"Oh please," Itama begins, "You're maybe a bit more powerful in terms of raw chakra release, but you're also pretty much a headless chicken. Tobi-nii san would outsmart you any day."

Hashirama squawks in outrage. "I am not that dense! You all are terrible bullies, how could you be so mean to your elder brother!"

"How about you try telling that to someone who hasn't seen you trip across your own trees." Itama bursts out laughing, then scrambles as Hashirama lunges for him.

Tobirama watches in silent amusement as Hashirama tussles with Itama, chasing him across the lawn. Both of them are laughing way too hard to run properly, weaving about the area like squiggly worms. Their chakra is so bright it feels like they're glowing, and he just closes his eyes and soaks in the energy. Warm and content.

Today is a good day. 

For the first time in months, all of his brothers are together. With their active roles as shinobi, Hashirama and him rarely get days of peace and quiet. It's especially his fault, missions upon missions of trial runs, courier strikes, borderland scuffles, assassinations, Tobirama manages and coordinates all of it, and he constantly joins Hashirama on frontline battles as well. So he's always busy, stealing into the compound in the dark of the night, going to sleep with his brothers unaware of his arrival, or departure.

Hashirama gets days off when there are no major clashes, he doesn't. 

He isn't bitter about it, he'd suffer a lot more to provide Hashirama with autonomy and space, and he's glad he can watch over their little brothers during the day when he can't. But Tobirama can sometimes feel his brothers grow colder, their chakra dimming and waning, less receptive to his presence.

It's an unreasonably stupid worry, but sometimes he wonders if they would just forget him, if he were to waste away, if he were to disappear. The brother far too much a shinobi to be _family_.

It's days like this he can feel his worries melt away, as insignificant as a distant summer dream.

They are his brothers, his precious people, they know him, they him. 

(He hopes, oh how he hopes he's correct.)

Tobirama spends the day with his brothers, they do not train, they do not discuss war. They are children, and they play in a field of flowers. For one day, just for one day, their lives have nothing but happiness, nothing to worry about. It is a beautiful blankness, and they all come out warmer with the setting sun.

Like some form of universal irony, Tobirama feels the world punishes them all for their joy. For the happiness, bitterness in return.

The next day, he fights an elite uchiha squadron, battles a three-man offense team on his way to deliver a missive. It's a hard battle. Tobirama is not yet very used to fighting Uchiha, not ones who have advanced sharingan capabilities. And these are seasoned veterans. He's been targeted. It's an ambush. He doesn't know how, but somehow they knew he was coming. He's not getting out of this alive, he thinks. Tossed about by three men twice his age, decades more experience, there's no logical way he wins.

But that can't be. All his struggles for what? A measly death on a courier run? Is that how his story ends? Not even a complete decade of life lived?  
The thought is jarring. It makes him mad.

He thinks of his brothers and he's incensed. His life, it will not be a casualty to war's cruelty. It will not.  
He has much to life for and he can't protect his family if he's _dead_.

He closes his eyes after coming far too close to looking one in the eye, and decides no, he will not die here. Not like this. 

(In blind fear he wonders, how can they do this? He hasn't lived ten whole summers and he's being hunted. He knows he's a shinobi but-he's also a child and he's so scared. He's terrified.)

It takes just about everything he has to win the battle, his sensory awareness pushed to new peaks as he resorts to fighting blind. It's a whole new ball game. It takes far too much, far too much out of him to win. He's touching the very edge of self destruction when he wins, his chakra coils burned and fizzled with overuse. He's still young and so his body cannot handle the strain. He's bloody and shattered as he returns home. Crawls his way to Senju lands just barely close enough to be spotted by a patrol squad. Then he's gone.

Everything neatly falls apart as he remains unconscious.

One perfect warm summer day, and the universe takes _everything_ from him in return.

That very day, Hashirama clashes with the Shimura clan on the northern frontlines with four elite squads, away from the Senju mainlands.

That very day Butsuma Senju sends out Kawarama Senju on his first mission, amongst highly voiced protests by Itama Senju.

Tobirama remains unconscious for a week. Hashirama takes another week to return.  
By then, It's far too late.

Itama Senju, is an angry, broken husk of a little boy as Tobirama wakes.  
Theres a ghost in the room as his eyes trace a wilted sunflower.

How incredible.  
A human, a person with a tangible physical presence, a brilliant life, gone in the space of a week.  
Just like that.

Gone, never to be seen again, never to be talked to.

Tobirama stays in Kawarama's room and watches the haphazard desk, the rumpled paper on the bed, the dented shuriken dumped near the window.  
The touch of his brother. The ghost of his presence hanging in the way the letters on the sheets are crossed out.

For a while, he just doesn't comprehend.

For a long time, Tobirama stays in the room, speechless and shivering. Just mute, blank.  
He's been told his littlest brother is dead and-

doesn't really feel real.  
But Tobirama isn't feeling, he isn't feeling anything at all, not yet.  
All he has is this low sense of blankness.

Then he follows Itama's wails, and there's a body.  
It's a lifeless doll. Glassy eyes and tiny body stained with blood and-

"It's fortunate that we recovered his body, at the least. He had an honorable death." 

Butsuma Senju-Butsuma Senju-Butsuma Senju-Butsuma Senju-

Tobirama thinks he wants to kill him. How strange it is then, that he feels nothing but ice.  
That he feels not the heated rage he should've but pure cold.

Itama chokes on a cry and curls down, body bent in half.

Then it hits, oh it hits-

Tobirama simply falls to the ground like a puppet with cut strings,  
the pain simply far too much to comprehend as it tears him apart.

His chakra flares out and out and out, trying to find that source of warmth-  
but he won't find it, because the body holding that warmth (that used to hold that warmth) is cold and stiff-  
Tobirama drives himself to chakra exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dudes this is not edited at all, send me the typos.
> 
> Also, ouch Tobi, I see you're missing a brother huh,  
> anyway by the timeline i guess our suffering sentinel gets to meet their guide soon ehh?  
> Not that its going to go well of course.


	3. Second Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thread snaps.

Tobirama sits near the burial mound with dry eyes and raw throat.

At some point during these days, he's taken to pulling Itama into his embrace as they sit near Kawarama's grave. His little brother holds him so harshly Tobirama gets welts on his arms. The pain barely registers. It takes just about everything he has not to fall apart into pieces. He can't, not when Itama needs him.

But it's a constant struggle. Everything feels so raw. His sensory input is completely wrecked. Either he expands his range so far that his head starts aching hard enough to feel as if it would burst, or he pulls it in so close that he feels blind even with his eyes open. His control has been shot since Kawarama's death. 

Tobirama knows it's a side effect of his sentinel status that traumatic incidents and high stress situations alter his focus of power, but he's never quite experienced problems to such a degree before.  
He assumes it's because the more powerful he grows, the higher the threshold for malfunctions and side effects.

He idly thinks of ways to confirm his hypothesis. It's better than thinking of the small body buried in the earth under his feet.

Butsuma hadn't even allowed them to wait for Hashirama before conducting the final rites. It's close to a week since Kawarama has been _gone_ , and Hashirama doesn't even know. He's probably on his way back, oblivious and- gosh, how is Tobirama going to face him? How is he supposed to look his elder brother in the eye and tell him that he _failed_ , that he failed to protect their brother?

The thought lingers and eats at him like a parasite.

So much for expecting the devastation on Hashirama's face, Tobirama doesn't really manage to prepare for it. He watches the way Hashirama's face turns from a look of confusion into one of horror. He sees the exact moment something in his eyes shatters. Shatters into pieces and whatever it is, it was, it will never be fixed. His stomach drops as his eldest brother looks at him. Looks at him for blind confirmation- and he can hear it. He can hear him say,

'Tell me it isn't true Tobi. Tell me it isn't true.'

Tobirama tries to answer, tries to speak, tries to make a noise, but just about nothing escapes his lips. He stands mute, head bowed.

"He died a shinobi's death. It was an honourable death." Butsuma speaks, explains.

Hashirama's mouth twists into something ugly, something broken, and he screams, "He died a pointless death! He was a child! He was a child and you killed him with your stupid war-

"Enough!" Butsuma Senju interrupts the tirade, clearly low of patience.

Tobirama can sense it even before it happens, how Hashirama continues to scream in defiance and how he knows Butsuma will punish him for insolence.

There's a crowd forming, people watching the disagreement. The eldest son's sacrilegious words, his defiance to his father, the clan head. It doesn't bode well, oh it doesn't bode well at all. If he doesn't stop it, if Tobirama doesn't stop it, it'll turn into a spectacle. Something like public whipping, solitary confinement.

He moves just as Butsuma starts to strike. No, he would not let him touch Hashirama.

His face snaps to the side with an ugly sound. Tobirama can feel the blood gathering in his mouth. Butsuma clearly wasn't holding back.

"Forgive him father, he knows nothing of the words coming out of his mouth. He's in shock." He falls to his knees as he speaks, a very public display of subservience. Like a dog bowing to it's owner, Tobirama bares his neck and waits. His actions should be more than enough to satiate Butsuma.

The clansmen watching the debacle scatter as Butsuma gives a scathing warning and moves away, satisfied.

Itama helps him stand with the broken tatters of his dignity. Hashirama has already stormed away. Tobirama doesn't know whether he left due to Butsuma, or himself. Either way the haunted look on his face is seared into his memory. And he knows deep down, that he's the one that truly failed him. Failed to save him from the pain. Failed to protect their family.

From that day on, Tobirama stops seeing Hashirama across the compound. His brother takes his missions, completes the ones he wants to, fights with their father and just disappears, leaving the compound till his return late at night. Now there is no laughter, no light, no life in their house. The quiet invades the place till it sinks into every single corner and makes it hard to breathe.

Tobirama does his best to look after Itama but there's nothing he can do to stop the boy from the sadness weighing across his shoulders. Kind words, beautiful stories, elicited laughs, those were the things Hashirama was good at, not him. He doesn't know how to be warm, how to be funny, how to be _enough_.

He tries to read to Itama, brings in books of wonderous stories from merchants far away, tries to collect as many distracting and amazing collections of words as he can find, because that's the only thing he thinks he can manage reasonably well, and Itama, wonderful, patient Itama, takes to them with soft touches of gratitude and tired acceptance. It's barely enough, and he knows his brother pretends to be fine for him, and it kills him to see and be able to do nothing.

"You think too much." Itama interrupts him once, between a story about a distant snow princess.

Tobirama exhales slowly, he doesn't know how to answer.

"You're the most important person to me. You watch over me all the time, make me feel like living even if I don't want to. So please, stop, just stop living in your head. How much will you blame yourself." Itama continues, voice thin, and clutches him tightly, tightly.

Tobirama's mouth twists. "I can't even make you laugh little rabbit. I can't even make you laugh. Hashirama would take much better care of you, and now he's gone because I've driven him awa-

"Hashirama hasn't been around for a long time. He's been busy in his own world since before Kawarama died."

The words die in his throat.

"He didn't spend his free time with us anyway, he went away each time. We figured he was busy, like you." Itama admits, and something tears into his heart again.

Is that how their little brother's had felt? That neither of them had time? Is that how Kawarama died? Never knowing just how much both Hashirama and Tobirama cared for him. Oh how he feels sick. How he feels sick.

The next morning Tobirama watches Hashirama disappear into the forest with an absent minded jump. He doesn't stop him. He doesn't know how to. And maybe that had hurt them all, all four brothers. The eldest too busy living a life of freedom and dreams, the second busy with war. Their little brothers had suffered.

He doesn't know how he fixes this, for Kawarama, he already can't, it's too late.  
But he can't let Itama down again, he can't.

The wind picks up as Tobirama walks back inside. It's cold and bitter and hints towards troubling times to come. Like always, he can sense the disaster even before it happens, and his mouth is bitter, it is bitter. He is scared, a sudden premonition writhes in his gut.

He gets called by Butsuma as he returns from his latest patrol mission. He knows, oh how he knows. He knows things are about to go downhill again, even as Butsuma tasks him to follow Hashirama. Seemingly simple, but it will not end well. It will not.

That night Tobirama breathes in the quiet in the air, watches Itama curl in fitful sleep. Hashirama slumbers in the next room, his chakra whole and healthy, steadily recovering, growing even as Itama and himself struggle to piece theirs back together properly. 

The sun rises as Tobirama sits on the roof. Unable to catch a wink of sleep throughout the entire night. 

He has a headache today, a particularly bad one brought forth by his jangling nerves and the bitter bitter taste of _wrong_ lingering on his tongue.

He takes in a deep breath and expands his life force, away and away, his sensory input increasing with each square inch of earth. In his state of alarm, he stretches his considerable sensory might to maximum potential. He can feel the Uchicha in their ancestral lands, Yamanaka, Nara, Akimichi a bit further, Hatake nomads in their autumn settlements.

Tobirama stays and waits on the roof for a couple more hours, sensing people across the lands.  
He moves only as Hashirama exits their house, absent minded steps trotting towards the forest.

Tobirama follows.

It takes a while for Hashirama to reach his destination, quite the distance from the Senju lands, way beyond their patrols. An uncomfortably close area to a bunch of other clans. It's barely any effort to follow his brother burning chakra, bubbling with excitement and happiness even as he comes to a stop near the river bisecting th-

Tobirama collapses as his senses go null.

He's sinking into chakra so warm, so beautiful, chakra so soothing all his stress is gone and his headache has disappeared. Tobirama hadn't realized just how much pain he'd been living with until now when all of sudden it's all just gone, and it's because of him.

Theres someone with Hashirama and Tobirama just knows.  
He can feel it in his bones, the core of his being.

That's his guide.

That's the person meant to be the fulcrum to Tobirama's rotation. The person capable of allowing him to use the full range of his sentinel based abilities without any repercussions at all.  
(No more headaches, sensory overstimulation, chakra misdirec-no, no, he's getting away with himself.)

Tobirama takes in a deep shuddering breath and tries to clear his mind.

It takes effort not to bask in the glow of the comforting chakra, so much more soothing than Hashirama's, which till now had seemed something unsurpassable, impossibly brilliant. For once in his life Tobirama just wants to give him, to chase, to hope. But, he can't. He can't. He knows he can't as Itama's face flashes in his mind, his sunken eyes. The overly naive outlook his elder brother has, his absent minded flailing that has more than once nearly gotten him killed. He doesn't have the liberty for selfishness, when he's pledged his life to them.

The decision feels horrible wrong, but he's made his mind. His family over a stranger. 

Tobirama wrenches his focus away from the guide through sheer bullheadedness. The backlash strikes him instantaneously and he staggers, leaning against the nearby tree. The sudden lack of contact feels like there's a space in his chest. A vacancy forced into his body where there should be warmth.

He takes two minutes, deep breaths, deep breaths.

Just what in the world is Hashirama _doing_? Whos exactly is the person with him?

Tobirama sits and lets his chakra wash out again, carefully glossing over the bonfire-warm presence, and realizes. His stomach drops and horror climbs up his neck. That chakra, it's-

it's an Uchiha.

He didn't notice it the first time because he was too busy being an idiot, and that's an Uchiha-

Tobirama makes it to the riverbank in just under five minutes and it's only years of practiced control that prevents him from jumping into the situation with unfettered panic. Hashirama is, he's fine. He watches from the forest as his brother chatters with the other boy, wild hair, energetic. There's no sign of an active sharingan.

They aren't fighting, and Hashirama isn't in any trouble, and, he's clearly having fun. A laugh floats up from the riverbank and Tobirama feels himself grow livid.

He's furious.

He doesn't think he's been this viciously angry, never before.

Tobirama has been ruining his life, trying to make sure that each of his brothers, that Hashirama doesn't need to get involved in the war, doesn't need to give up on dreaming or compromise his freedom, for the sake of his clan and Hashirama, _Hashirama_ , is out here, barely two weeks since Tobirama had to dig a grave and bury their little brother, out here with an _Uchicha_ , having fun. Itama hasn't eaten a single meal properly in weeks and Hashirama is out here, making weird faces at a stranger, an enemy shinobi, making him laugh.

(So jealous, he's so jealous. That's _his_ guide, whoever that boy is, and there's no scenario in which Tobirama shirks his clan duties and comes to a riverbank to learn the colour of his soul. He can't, he has responsibilities and his hands are bound but somehow, by some cruel stroke of fate Hashirama get's to hear his voice, know his name-)

Tobirama stops watching and stalks back, waits.

If he hears them bickering any longer (like Hashirama used to, with him) he might just swoop in and wring his brother's neck.

The sun is setting by the time his eldest brother decides to leave for home. Enough frolicking for a day it seems, Tobirama thinks viciously.

"You made a friend, anija?" Tobirama speaks quietly into the forest gloom, as Hashirama walks into the foliage, eyes gleaming.

The temperature _drops_. Tobirama watches the smile drip off his face with vicious satisfaction.

"Tobirama. You- It's just Madara, I've known him for a while he's not dangerous." Hashirama tries to explain, voice getting smaller.

"Madara. So that Uchiha is called Madara." Tobirama intones, voice carefully flat. He knows very well the name of the Uchiha clan heir, and if that boy is him- well.

Hashirama flinches, "He's, he's not an Uchiha" he tries, but even he knows his attempt falls flat as Tobirama levels him with a withering glare. Tobirama is a sensor, the greatest sensor in the Land of Fire in centuries, one that can sense the quality of chakra, define the nature, the emotions of the people by their presence, that Hashirama even tries to deny it knowing how his little brother can very well sense the truth, it makes his hands tremble with rage, with betrayal. He's always trusted Hashirama, been honest to him no matter how terrible the situation is, but it seems like Hashirama can't even afford him that.

"Did you know he was an Uchiha from the start?" Tobirama asks, voice unchanging.

"No-no, we really didn't know each others clan identities at the start." Hashirama explains, something hopeful in his voice, as if this fact would make the situation better.

Tobirama doesn't even bother trying to point out the absolute stupidity in befriending an unknown shinobi when the Senju Clan is on high alert, what with the constant attempts on Tobirama's life. The way intel was gathered to target him across all his missions, to swoop in and murder their little brother as soon as an opportunity presented itself. At this point he's realized how little any of that matters to his elder brother.

"When did you realize." Tobirama demands, clenching his hands to control the shaking.

"A while ago. After Kawarama, I was upset, so he tried to comfort me. Said he had brothers who died in the war too. At that point it sort of fit, his name, the nature of his most used jutsu. It all pointed to him being an Uchiha." Hashirama admitted.

Even now Tobirama can tell how Hashirama is trying to beat around the bush, calling him "an Uchiha" when he very well knows that's the _clan_ heir. It infuriates him. What does Hashirama think? That Tobirama wouldn't recognize the son of the enemy clan's head? When Tobirama has been a central part of the war, been walking across the battlefield for just as long as Hashirama has spent time playing around in the woods.

"Does he know who you are?" Tobirama grits out another question.

He doubts the Uchiha doesn't know, but just the fact that Hashirama hasn't been killed yet speaks for something.  
(He doesn't know what reason the Uchiha heir would have to make the stupid decision of befriending an enemy clan's heir, but- no, it was more probable that the Uchiha was manipulating his brother for information.)

"I don't know, I mean I would like to think he doesn't but I'm actually sort of thinking that he knows and he doesn't care. Tobi, isn't it wonderful if we can be friends, we could end this war-

"Silence." Tobirama hisses as the air freezes around him, dewdrops on trees turning to ice.

Tobirama doesn't have time to teach Hashirama about the real world, if he choses to be this blindsided he can't help him. Not that he has the time to baby around his elder brother any more than he already does. Sure, Tobirama has made sure he's the one who's always done the dirty work for the clan, but it's not like Hashirama doesn't know all about it. Know all the horrible details of most of Tobirama's missions. The way shinobi work. The sheer ignorance his brother choses to sport despite knowing the truth, he- he can't fix this. He doesn't know how to.

"You will forget about him for now. If you want to be his friend, offer him a truce _when_ you become clan head. Till then, you will never meet him." Tobirama gives his ultimatum, voice like steel.

Hashirama gapes at him with hurt written over his face as if _Tobirama's_ the one who's wrong, who's heartless and cruel.

No matter what he likes to think, his freedom comes at a heavy price. Tobirama buys it for him with every mission he takes, buys it from Butsuma. Tobirama wants to scream at Hashirama, remind him of this ugly truth, but he can't. he can't.

"I was sent by Butsuma to spy on where you go. I won't tell him the truth on the condition that you never meet Madara Uchiha again." Tobirama tries again, calmer. He needs to make sure Hashirama never goes back, because sooner or later, he would get ambushed, would get killed.

If he needs to threaten him to protect him, so be it.

Hashirama stares at Tobirama like he's a stranger. He just stares at him and doesn't reply.

Later as they eat across the dining table, the air is frigid and cold in a way it never was before. It's starting to make Tobirama feel sick. Genuinely, physically sick. That too, very quickly.

Itama knows something is wrong but he's unable to understand, poor face curled in frustration as Hashirama and Tobirama both refuse to give an explanation. Finally, the dam breaks and he bursts into tears, unable to handle the tension and running away.

Something hardens in his gut but Tobirama is barely keeping it together. No matter how much he wants to comfort Itama, the thought of trying to stand makes him feel faint.

He reaches out to Hashirama with a sigh, touching his shoulder lightly, trying to ask him to follow Itama, see if he's alright.

"Don't touch me." Hashirama lashes out, instantly moving away, angry as he leaves the room.

Tobirama stays frozen for a second before a wave of pain washes over his being. It feels like something inside him burns, like something inside him snaps and writhes.  
He falls to the floor and heaves, stomach pushing out everything he'd eaten over the day.

The next morning, Tobirama leaves the compound for a long retrieval mission. His priorities are not about the object meant for retrieval; he heads to the Nara clan.

He needs more information on his condition. There's no other clan that can offer him the scope of information the Nara might offer. It's said that the first trio of allied clans included a sentinel Yamanaka, guide Akimichi, protected and wielded by the Nara. Their significance is historic, even though there hasn't been a sentinel-guide pair in a while. The three clans still stand together with staunch trust.

There were no useful records left in the Senju archives, nothing on sentinels and guides that would help him anymore. He has no other choice.

Thankfully, the Nara aren't a battle focused clan. They maintain their peace by having Yamanaka and the Akimichi as vanguard, and definitely pull out in battle, but they trade in information. A highly valuable, highly sought after resource. For decent prices, one could buy knowledge.

That's what he plans to do.

It doesn't take Tobirama much time at all to reach the Nara lands, by some grace of god he only has a mild headache today. As for his general chakra state, his reserves are fine, barely scratched. They've been expanding steadily for most of his life, but recently, they've taken to exponential expansion. His reserves are already doubled from the state he was in when fighting the Uchia triad but a mere week ago.

It's probably heavily linked to the stress he's been under, but he needs more information, especially because more power means higher possibilities of erratic fluctuations for him and he's already been suffering some side-effects of forced growth, especially these splitting headaches.

A signal gets released in the distance and a deep hum fills the air.  
The signaling horn.

Tobirama stops and waits, it doesn't take long for a Nara patrol to reach him, dropping down to the forest floor to get a look at him.

He raises his hands in careful surrender, broadcasting his movements. He's not here to fight.

They watch him warily as he touches his right thumb to his right palm. It's a Nara standard issue signal for a market inquiry, for information or goods.

"Clan affiliation?" A voice asks plainly, asking for clarification.

"Inconsequential. Personal Business." Tobirama replies. He's not here to represent the Senju, this is a personal matter. He doesn't need people knowing that the Senju clan had been interested in sentinel-guide pairs. His face is already hidden under a hood carefully and he takes care to alter his speech through extrinsic seals.

A woman steps forward from the shadows, "We charge extra for lone clients."

Of course they do. Anonymous clients often traded for highly sensitive pieces of information. Information too delicate to be associated with clan identities, not to say that these agents weren't acting for clans, they were, but these matters were hidden in shadows, discrete. A standard practice in the shinobi world.

"I'm willing to pay."

"We're going to put sensory deprivation seals to escort you to our archives." The woman continues, voice bland.

Tobirama holds his hands up without complaint.

He hates this procedure, hates the way it cripples him on a scale much larger than one for an average shinobi. But this is standard procedure.

Seals are stamped around his wrists, a brief spark of chakra from the Nara and the world goes dark. He can neither see nor hear, even his sense of touch is muffled in an odd way. He knows his muscles are tensing, he's moving, but his mind just isn't able to make sense of the signals from his body, everything is just plain muddled. Tobirama swallows and pushes down the urge to panic, to reach out, to expand his chakra viciously and tear the seals apart-

A sudden jolt and color sears into his eyes. In a split second noise comes crashing down on his ears, a brief period of sensory overload.

Tobirama takes a minute to breathe properly, pushing back the feeling of queasiness.

He's in a dark room, covered with bookshelves, scrolls and manuscripts and books covering each and every single inch of available space. For a second he takes in the wonder with greedy eyes, so much knowledge, categorized information. Oh how he would like to have a colossal archive just as magnificent, information on just about anything, from seals to jutsu to medicine.

A heavy guard of multiple teams is placed all around. They burn in his sensory range, on high alert.

"State your demand shinobi-san." A man speaks from the center of the large room. Seated behind a curved table.

"Sentinels and guides. Information on sentinels and guides." Tobirama states softly.

The man looks at him unmoving.

"An extremely controversial topic to want information on." The man finally speaks.

"You're unwilling to provide the requested material?" Tobirama raises his eyebrow, unwavering.

"Only a couple of manuscripts will be available for your requested topic." The Nara continues, just as serious.

"If I raise the payment?" Tobirama tries, but he knows by now that he's not getting the whole picture from them.

"That information has no price. It's better that only certain minds know of the true extent of the bonds. Do you want what is available, or should we escort you out?"

Tobirama knows its a lost cause to try and argue. It's actually a bit of a relief that such information is guarded heavily, but at the same time it's inconvenient for him personally. He wonders if they would change their minds if he reveals his status as a sentinel. He exhales and shakes his head, what a stupid thought.

The Nara disappears behind towering shelves, into a veritable maze.

He has to wait a while before the man returns, a bunch of delicate scrolls arranged in his hands.

"Do not damage the materials. Any attempt at stealing the effects or their contents would result in death. Your presence is constantly monitored." The man warns, handing him the papers.

Tobirama takes the materials carefully, unwilling to damage the delicate manuscripts. His fingers are tense with tension and he frowns as he reads the words written across the sheets.

Hours later, Tobirama makes his way back through the forest. Steps heavy and disbalanced, wood crackling under his boots as he puts far too much chakra during his jumps.

Madness, or death. That's what awaits him. That's basically the crux of the matter, as far as he can discern from the available material. There wasn't much of anything to elucidate how the bonds worked, or how they manifested the way they did. There was a little bit on how the bonded pair could work together, how their powers worked in tandem and were enhanced, magnified. A little bit on the powers of the guides, capable of balancing the extreme abilities of their sensors, even affecting normal people subconsciously. How guides could connect with people, though they were prone to being temperamental.

Tobirama largely cared about the information on sentinels. Extreme abilities, enhanced senses, highly proficient, highly intensive intellect. All at the price of their sanity. A human body, no matter how well trained, had limits. Pushing beyond them, as sentinels often did, caused extreme backlashes. Without guides to balance their power, to reign in their focus, they were prone to accidents, overexertion, till the point of death, was a highly probably event the more powerful a sentinel was.

So yes, he knows very well knows what his fate is going to be.

Tobirama stops his reckless charge across the forest. Taking in a large breath. So what if he's meant to die. He's a shinobi, it's not like he doesn't know that already, of course he'd going to die. And he knows he might die quite soon, it's not like he hasn't come close to it before, shinobi never live long. It's not as much of a big deal as he initially thought, he's only being temperamental, emotional for no reason. Logically, there's no reason to be distraught.

He releases a sigh and spreads his chakra across the land, what was once overwhelming feels second nature, he's a sentinel yes, and no matter what fate awaits him, he does not reject his gift. His abilities are a blessing, and he will use them to his dying breath.

Itama's chakra is safe in the Senju compound, it's calm and lucid, though muted, he's safe at least, if not happy. Tobirama reaches out for the sunshine warmth of Hashirama's chakra, nowhere near Itama, nowhere near the Senju compound in fact-

he's approaching the Naka river, far too close to the Uchiha lands for comfort. 

Tobirama clenches his teeth in fury, of course Hashirama didn't listen to him, _of course_ he didn't heed his warning. As he watches over the buffoon, something sends a sliver of cold down his spine. Madara is also approaching the riverbank, but, he's not alone.

No, those chakra signatures behind him- he knows one. Knows it from countless battles, no that's, it's Uchiha Tajima.

Tobirama bursts into movement so fast the tree behind him bursts into splinters. His chakra control is absolutely horrendous and he's not paying attention to the ruckus he's making. If he doesn't hurry, if he doesn't make it in time- he refuses to think about it.

Nothing will happen to Hashirama, nothing.

When Uchiha Tajima bursts onto the river with another little boy, Tobirama is _right there_.  
With Butsuma Senju.

Tobirama feels the exact moment the last precarious string connecting him to Hashirama snaps. His brother has nothing but absolute betrayal in his eyes as he looks at Tobirama.

"How could you do this, Tobi." He almost feels the words resonate, the choked off words ringing in the silence, the forest itself curling around Hashirama to regard him with accusation. Tobirama ignores him. Watching the Uchiha carefully, where Madara is looking at the ground with clenched teeth, frown on his lips.

Tobirama doesn't know whether he's disappointed that he couldn't kill Hashirama, or whether he's disappointed that this friendship, if Hashirama is to be believed, is falling apart.

There is a fight on the verge of breaking out, as Tajima and Butsuma hiss at one another. The little boy who'd arrived with Tajima hisses at him relentlessly. Both Hashirama and Madara stay back, something like a protest inscribed on their faces but none of them dare defy their fathers. Tobirama saves his judgement on Madara's character for another day, it's too much of a headache to try and make sense of his motives at a simple glance, he watches his father instead.

But, this is not a place to fight. Butsuma knows his disadvantage, the Uchiha lands are closer, reinforcements were a real threat.  
They retreat.

Butsuma Senju leaves the riverbank in such a rage that he shatters all trees in his path and leaves his sons behind on the way back.

Hashirama Senju doesn't even look at him, and for once, for the first time in all of Tobirama's life, Hashirama feels foreign.  
To Tobirama he doesn't just feel angry, or mad, he feels like a stranger. It feels like this person beside him, is a stranger, whose chakra doesn't recognize his at all.

They split apart at the Senju Compound, Hashirama unwilling to report to their father, as usual.

"Tobirama." Butsuma bellows, as he makes his way to their father's study. Someone needs to calm him down, and it's not going to be Hashirama, so it has to be him.  
Oh but he feels so small, he feels so small.

"Yesterday, I seem to remember you coming back from a mission." Butsuma begins, eyes red with rage, voice hoarse with anger, "You said, Hashirama prefers to train alone."

"Then today, you come to me, and we head to the Naka river, where I find Tajima Uchiha and his sons, ready to ambush your brother, or so I thought." Butsuma's voice dips.

"Perhaps you should explain to me then, why Hashirama seemed to sprout some nonsense on how Uchiha Madara was his friend. And how none of that was an ambush, only a 'misunderstanding'. Maybe you should give me one good reason why I shouldn't just rip his head off his shoulders for being a traitor." Butsuma Senju continues, voice extremely quiet, leaning down to grab Tobirama's face.

Pure unadulterated fear slips down his spine, and Tobirama is helpless, absolutely helpless.

"One good reason for why I shouldn't have you beheaded for being a traitor to your clan head." The fingers grabbing his face clench and blood drips down his face.

Tobirama's hands tremble. He's terrified.  
Please, he doesn't want this, something, someone, anyone, please. 

But, he's alone. And no one would be there for him.  
He knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all had fun reading it.

**Author's Note:**

> man i hope this turns out decent but im a shit writer so its dicey
> 
> Sorry Tobi, you're going to be very sad.


End file.
